


Temperance

by SanctuaryTrin



Category: Reylo - Fandom, star wars the last jedi
Genre: F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, TLJ inspired smut, Yin Yang goodness (naughtiness), force link, fun with force link!, improper use of the force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13058592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanctuaryTrin/pseuds/SanctuaryTrin
Summary: Post TLJ.  Poetic smut that I had to get out of my system.





	Temperance

_At night...desperate to sleep...you imagine an ocean..._

_Do you see it?_

_I see only you._

Heavy, solid warmth curls around her back. A half moon of darkness. Why is it always so luxuriously warm? It should be cold, empty, unfeeling…  
Her eyelids tremble, lashes fluttering. Wetness builds until a tear escapes from the corner of her eye and glides downward to her pillow.

Always wet in his presence.

She parts her lips and breathes in, and he does the same. They remain this way for a few moments, breathing together, until their heartbeats sync.  
It doesn’t take long.

They would fall asleep together now, as they had every night for the past month. Rey would open her dream eyes to rippling, dark waters, and Ben would look upon tight, sun bright flower buds that eased and unfolded at his touch.

But on this night, sleep did not come.

She breathes in again, and drowns in his scent. Black earth soaked with rain. There’s a sharp ache between her legs, and she shifts and feels his lungs expand as he takes in her scent. Heat and spice. Feminine desire.

The awareness bolts through them both and her body changes, rapidly, instinctively. She yields and tightens, pressing up against him until she can feel his hardness.

_Join me_

A rush of warm breath flows over the nape of her neck and she makes a little sound, high and whimpering. A stark contrast to the ragged depths of his voice.  
She feels his hand, his huge, powerful hand, burrow underneath her neck to clasp around her throat, and she feels as if she’s melting against him.

She lifts her knee, parting her thighs, and his other hand grasps fabric, pulling, pushing aside, searching for her flesh.  
He finds her, the center of the ache, and dips into her wet heat.  
He growls now, a low rumble against her that she answers with another fluttering whimper, and she closes her legs, locking him in place. His hand pulses around her throat gently, and there’s a soothing purr along the link. He rocks against her a little, like ocean waves, and she exhales and relaxes her thighs.  
His fingers release her throat and fan upwards, brushing against her lips, feathery and gentle, but his other fingers crook against her swollen clit and she cries out and stiffens.  
He holds her. Hand around her throat, fingers pressed against her sex. Her breathing is hitched and sporadic now, and she wiggles against him, seeking something she has no name for.  
He takes a moment, finding focus, feeling her movements, before stroking her in slow, firm circles.  
She moans and it sounds like pain, it feels like torture. She grips his wrist with her hand and squeezes.  
The waves lap at her, matching her blood rhythms, sending ripples of pleasure through her veins. She sends out a silent, desperate plea, like an outthrust hand, in a moment of fear and hunger.

_You’re not alone_

She plunges into the deep. The center of her clenches in hard pulses and brightness flares from the depths. She’s ablaze. Bursting into a flurry of sparks that ignites the watery darkness around her, and he moans and rocks and holds her tight against him while she drenches his fingers with liquid fire.


End file.
